My favorite food.

You stare at me every evening longingly.
Eventually you give in.
You pour me into a nice tall glass and droll over my figure.
You love my bubby personality,
And my foamy hat.
You enjoy me most on a hot, humid day,
Or after a particularly hard day.
Many nights I Think you love me.
Many mornings I think you hate me.
I think I love you too.